


The Tiny Umbrella

by padalelli



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bar, Depressed Dean, F/M, Fluff, Reader is a bartender, Season 9 Spoilers, fruity pink drinks, jerk!Dean, the late shift, tiny umbreallas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 19:29:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2703809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padalelli/pseuds/padalelli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While you're working at the bar, your boyfriend Dean comes to visit you. But it's not a visit you appreciate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tiny Umbrella

**Author's Note:**

> Another Supernatural dream I had that I thought I'd share with you all! Hope you enjoy!

You were on your own tonight at the bar. The only one working. Luckily, it wasn't too busy. You had about a dozen people and it was manageable. Dean said he'd come by and visit you, so you had that to look forward to. But for now, you were wiping down the bar and keeping an eye out for troublemakers. Fortunately, it was also the day shift and you got off at five, before all the rubble-rousers got in. Most of your customers were the lunch crowd, and since it was a Wednesday, it was a small one at that.  
You had just swept the dining area and were now restocking underneath the bar when you heard him say, "Hey, sweetheart."  
You quickly perked up and went over to your boyfriend Dean. He looked worn out, then again he always did, but he looked especially bothered today. Even though he had a smile in his eyes when he looked at you, the rest of him looked gruff, almost angry. "Hey Dean, I wasn't expecting you at..." You looked down at your watch. "Two o'clock. What are you doing here?" you asked.  
"Figured I'd come by for a drink. I said I'd come visit you, didn't I?" he said.  
"Yeah, I just didn't think it would be this early. Is everything okay?" you asked. You knew he drank just about any free chance he got, which you didn't mind because he was generally able to hold his liquor down. But you had a bad feeling he wasn't feeling okay enough to be drinking right now.  
"Just get me something to drink, would you, [Y/N]?" You could tell he tried not to be demanding, he tried to be polite about it. But the fact that it was spoken without even a _please_ made you a little upset.  
"Sure. Is there anything in particular you want?" you said, the hurt just barely seeping into your voice.  
"Anything is fine. Just something with alcohol," he said, this time his depression audible.  
"Baby, are you okay?" you leaned over the bar and whispered to him. "You seem irritable. Did something happen? Is Sam okay?"  
He banged the side of his fist on the table. Gently enough for no one else to notice, but hard enough for it to startle you. "It's fine. I just want a drink, is that too much too ask?" he said, his big green eyes turning innocent again.  
"Okay, I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you," you said as you turned around to fix him a drink.  
"Don't be. There's nothing worth worrying about," he said.  
You set down a glass containing a pinkish orange fruity drink in front of him. "I know you hate anything that's not straight up beer or whiskey, but I really think you're gonna like this one. It's sassafras, which is kind of like root beer, with some hard lemonade and vodka," you said. "And I left out the tiny umbrella just for you, so..."  
Dean picked up the glass and gave you a look. "You really expect me to drink this?" he asked. "It's pink. No, give me something I like," he said. His tone was becoming angrier.  
"Hey, you could at least try it. I won't charge you for it if you don't like it," you said, trying to hold back your hurt feelings. "Come on, I make drinks for you all the time at the bunker. Why can't you drink this one?"  
"I'm not gonna drink this pink cocktail!" he said, his voice becoming louder. A few people in the bar turned their heads.  
"Dean, I don't know what's wrong with you, and I have tried to ask, and I let it go when you wouldn't tell me. But this is my bar and I will not let you yell at me just because you don't want to be seen drinking anything but whiskey in public," you said quietly and firmly. You picked up a shot of tequila that someone had abandoned and threw the liquid at Dean's face. Then you took off your apron as he sat there staring at you in silence and muttered, "See you at the bunker." before going back into the kitchen.  
When you reemerged from the back a few minutes later, Dean had left and a few people had cleared out. You gathered their money from the tables and wiped the booths down. At five o'clock, no one had come to relieve you of your shift. It was another hour before one of the other bartenders and the rest of the cooks got there. But you were still understaffed, so you had no other choice but to keep working until a couple of other bartenders and waitresses got there. A waitress showed up at eight, and another one showed up at nine. Since you were the manager, you told them they'd be faring for themselves the rest of the night since they were late to their shifts. Around nine-thirty you left, and it was ten o'clock by the time you reached the bunker.  
When you got home, you went to the laundry room and took off your button down shirt and threw it into the dirty laundry basket. You grabbed a white v-neck and slipped it on before taking off your shoes and going to the kitchen. You rummaged through the cabinets to make a list of things you'd have to get when you went to the grocery store tomorrow. Alcohol was definitely one of them. As you were writing down the various beverages you wanted to get on your shopping trip, you felt a pair of strong, warm arms wrap around you, and you felt the scratch of Dean's stubble along where your shoulder met your neck. "What do you want, Dean?" you muttered.  
"I'm sorry for the way I acted. It was inexcusable and you definitely didn't deserve to be treated that way. Especially not by me," Dean murmured. "I know I don't deserve to be forgiven, but could you try?" he asked.  
You turned around in his arms and placed your hands on his shoulders, looking up into his still melancholy eyes. "Just tell me what was going on. All I want to know is why you were acting that way," you said.  
Dean looked down at the ground. "We lost Kevin," he mumbled.  
You immediately forgave him and pulled him in close to you, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. "Oh my god, Dean, I'm so sorry," you mumbled into his shirt. "I know he was like family to you." You could tell Dean wanted to cry, but he was so stubborn he refused to do so. "It's okay, baby. What can I do to get your mind off of it?" you asked.  
"No, no it's not okay. I just can't talk about him okay, just let me deal with that on my own. I just want you to let me apologize to you. What I did today, the way I treated you, it wasn't right. You should never be spoken to like that. I should never speak to you like that. Please forgive me for being such a dick," Dean said.  
You knew he would mourn Kevin on his own, so you decided not to press the issue. Because you knew the best way to help him was to make him forget, not to make him talk about it. "I forgive you for being such a dick," you said, trying to make a joke out of it.  
He half-chuckled and squeezed you tight before releasing you so he could kiss you. "I love you," he said in between kisses.  
Your breath hitched for a moment. That was the first time he had said that to you. When you got the opportunity to take a breath, you said, "I love you, too."

**Author's Note:**

> Fics can also be found on my Tumblr "imagine-a-SPN-moose" and I am taking requests there!!!


End file.
